


Birthday Buzz

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Valentine Vibrations [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blindfolds, Cunnilingus, F/M, Foursome, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Ghoul Sex, Hand Jobs, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Vaginal Fingering, Voice Kink, ghoulfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: Nora gets treated.





	Birthday Buzz

Nora’s PipBoy came to life in the dim light of the Mayor’s office with a terrifyingly loud instrumental rendition of  _The Star-Spangled Banner,_ shaking her and her companions out of a heat-induced stupor. 

“Fuckin’ Almighty, Vaultie,” Hancock grumbled, “coulda told us your little wristwatch celebrated Independence Day like that.”

“Would’ve if I knew,” Nora muttered, switching the music off. “Wasn’t exactly awake last July.” 

Blessed silence filled the air and suddenly they realised Deacon’s voice was still going. 

“Aw, but I was enjoying that!” Deacon whined. Nora reached out and tried to hit him limply but instead her fist hit MacCready.

“Hey, hey, you two take this outside,” the sniper grumbled sleepily. “I don’t wanna get caught in the middle of your sh- shenanigans.”

“Charmer’s just pissed my singing voice is nicer than hers,” Deacon sighed. Nora leaned up and glared at him. 

“You wish, Dee. Besides, if you wanna sing, you should be singing  _Happy Birthday_  instead,” she told him. Deacon perked up, grinning. 

“Wait, wait, it’s your birthday?” he asked with a gasp. “July 4th is your birthday? Oh my god, that answers  _so_  many questions.”

“No kiddin’?” Hancock rasped. “July 4th?  _That’s_  when you were born?”

“Damn, this explains the whole deal with the Minutemen,” MacCready laughed, smirking. This time, Nora wasn’t aiming for Deacon, and there was a little more strength behind her swing. 

“So wait, you were born in 2048, so give or take 211 years… _oh_.” Deacon pushed down his shades, just a little. His eyes seemed to gleam. “Happy 240th birthday, General.” 

“I hate youuuu,” Nora whined, and knelt up to lean over MacCready. The sniper let out a sharp ‘woah!’ and tilted himself back as she reached over to throw Deacon’s wig on the ground and push his glasses off. Just as she sat back, she heard Hancock make a noise of appreciation. 

“Now come on, Deacon,” he purred. She felt a hand sink into her thigh. “That ain’t a nice thing to say to a birthday girl.”

A new heat, independent of the weather, rushed through her, and Nora looked over her shoulder to see Hancock sitting draped against the couch, smirking, his fingers gripping her. 

“So, what do you want for your present, birthday girl?” he drawled. Nora turned over, sitting on her ass. Hancock’s hand simply slid across her leg, finding her knee and slowly, slowly, sliding upwards. 

“I-I…wasn’t expecting- I mean, you…I don’t know,” she whispered. The ghoul leaned in. 

“How about a big surprise for our best General?” he asked softly. Nora felt herself  _throb_. 

“…yeah,” she finally whispered, her voice breathless. “Uh-huh. Yeah.”

“I like where this is going,” she heard MacCready say as his rough fingers trailed up her neck. 

“Making Charmer see fireworks on the 4th of July?” Deacon chuckled. His fingers slid around her hip. “I’m in.”

“Are you in  _just_  for the puns?” Nora demanded. 

Any real anger in the words dissipated as the two men behind her began unzipping her suit. Hancock’s hands dropped to the flag around his waist and, with a smirk, he untied it. Heat burned across Nora’s skin, dropping between her thighs, and then MacCready’s lips found her neck and a soft moan filled the room. 

“I can’t believe that surprises you,” MacCready pointed out as he worked her suit down her back. Deacon laughed, tugging the sleeve off her arm and hooking his finger into the strap of her bra. 

The faded white fabric fell off her shoulder and Deacon sat back, unhooking her bra with a single hand. MacCready scooped up the other strap and pulled it off her, tossing it onto the other couch, and Hancock handed Deacon the flag before he gripped her suit and dragged it down her belly, off her hips and over her thighs. Nora breathed out heavily as the flag covered her eyes, and suddenly the rough stroke of Hancock’s fingers against her knees made her shiver. 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise present if you knew what was comin’, huh?” Hancock pointed out, lifting her leg to unlace her boots. 

“Point,” Nora whispered, as a pair of hands cupped her breasts. They didn’t feel like MacCready’s, and she was proved correct when the rough sniper’s fingers touched her face, the scratch of his beard meeting her lips. Nora moaned softly, her lips parting the moment Deacon’s fingertips began to tease her nipples, and then air was swirling around her bare legs. 

“Oh,  _doll_ ,” Hancock groaned, hooking his fingers into her underwear. He pulled at the fabric. Nora whimpered as it clung to her briefly, held in place by the slickness between her thighs. She whimpered into MacCready’s lips, feeling Deacon kiss his way up her neck. The sodden underwear slipped down her thighs and then her bare ass was pressed against the couch cushions. 

“I think we should put this beautiful pinup on the table,” Deacon murmured into her ear. “Then we can decide what to do next.”

“Sound plan,” Hancock agreed, and Nora squeaked in surprise as she found herself lifted into the air by two strong hands. She braced for the hard wood of the coffee table and found cushions pressing against her back instead. 

“Now that,” she heard Deacon say as she lay back, “that’s actually  _smart_ , Mac.”

“Don’t sass me, old man.” 

“Hey now,” Hancock’s fingers dragged up her thigh, and she whimpered, “don’t ignore the birthday girl just for the sake of measuring dicks. You’ll get to do that in a moment.” 

“But building anticipation is part of the fun!” Deacon sighed. She heard the rustle of clothing as they knelt beside her, and hands dragged up her belly to tease her nipples. She arched into the touches, feeling MacCready on her right and Deacon on her left. 

“Not if you leave our girl unsatisfied,” Hancock chided. 

She felt his teeth press gently to her knee as he drew her thighs up. Her stomach flipped at the slow drag of his mottled lips against the sensitive flesh, and just as she whimpered, two hot mouths found her breasts, lips fastening around her nipples. Her hands flew up, carding into Mac’s thicker hair and desperately tugging at Deacon’s soft, shorn locks. 

She heard the ghoul laugh softly as she gasped, his mouth on the juncture between thigh and mound. 

“Attagirl, sweetheart,” he rasped. Mac’s hand gripped a thigh and tugged it aside. Deacon did the same, and Nora felt another wash of wet heat as they spread her open. Hancock drew a few pictures on her thigh with his tongue, and Nora could bet good caps he had the biggest grin on his face as he blew warm air over her wet slit. 

She had the briefest moment to take a breath before those ruined lips were on her clit, sucking slowly. Nora threw her head back and let out a wavering cry, her eyes rolling upwards. MacCready’s tongue swirled around her nipple just as Deacon’s began to rapidly flick back and forth, drawing the dark peak into his mouth. Her hips rocked against the ghoul’s mouth. Fuck, he was  _skilled_. She wasn’t surprised. 

But she found herself completely overwhelmed by the three men, arching up off the cushions, her hands gripping Deacon and MacCready’s hair tighter. The sniper moaned, but Deacon gently pulled her hand away just as Hancock’s fingers began trail down her thighs, again and again. 

“Hey, hey,” he chided teasingly, “I’ve been trying to grow it out now. Don’t rip it  _all.”_

With that, the spy suddenly pinned her wrist above her head and Nora gasped, wriggling as Deacon’s lips found her breast again. MacCready’s hand drifted over her arm, sending little waves of comfort through her body and soothing her despite the way that John was making her shake with each pull on her clit. 

“Is our birthday girl getting handsy?” Hancock chuckled, his mouth suddenly leaving her. Nora groaned in frustration. It made the ghoul laugh harder. He kissed her knee. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll get yours.”

Two mottled thumbs pushed at her clit, exposing the little nub, and once more she had time only to gasp before his tongue passed over it and Nora  _yelped_. Her hips bucked furiously off the table and her thighs tried to jerk out of their restraints. MacCready made a noise of surprise. 

Hancock’s tongue was  _textured_. It had little ridges and divots and it was driving her  _insane._ He was keeping the laps slow at the moment, maybe in an attempt not to blow her fucking  _mind_ , but Nora could already feel a coil of tension swelling between her thighs.

“Hancock,” she whimpered. She didn’t think she could take much more of that. “Please…I need…”

“All right,” he said soothingly. His lips kissed her slit, and then his tongue made a broad sweep up to her exposed clit. “Breathe deep, baby.”

Two ruined fingers suddenly slipped deep into her and Nora tensed for a second. The  _texture_ …

Hancock’s lips wrapped around her clit and started to suck, and this time Nora almost screamed as his hand fucked her. Her hips writhed beneath his head and the desperate noises that filled the air were something she’d never heard from herself before. MacCready redoubled his efforts as Hancock ground the flat of his tongue in rough, hard circles against her nub. 

“Fuck,” Nora keened, “fuck,  _oh god, fuck please, please, plea-!”_

Her noises were briefly muffled by Deacon’s lips, just as Hancock’s fingers started to crook. Her head twisted away as she cried out, her grip in Mac’s hair pulling tight enough that she heard the sniper groan into her skin. Deacon’s hand cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple. 

“Prep for a firework display,” he murmured into her ear, and her thigh broke out of his grip. She arched up, legs tensing, feeling that coil wind tighter and tighter. Hancock just wrapped an arm around her thigh and held her close, his tongue dancing and stroking her like she was the best thing he’d ever tasted. 

“Happy Birthday, Charmer,” Deacon whispered, and just as his tongue stroked over her nipple, Nora screamed, the coil of tension unravelling  _hard_. 

Her orgasm hit her, ripping through her body and forcing her into an arch. She writhed, her legs kicking out. Suddenly, every stroke against her skin felt like little lances of heat that rushed between her thighs and sapped at her strength. As the pleasure slowly died away into a pleasant buzz, it was replaced with an overstimulated static, and a moment later her hand left Mac’s hair as she pushed at John’s head. 

The ghoul made her squirm for a few more seconds, then withdrew with a chuckle, his fingers still buried but unmoving in her. The other two let her calm down, laying kisses on her neck and collarbone. Each press of their lips made her skin twitch. 

“Mmm, that was quite a show, doll,” he purred. “I feel like movin’ on to the next act right this damn minute. The thought of you squirmin’ as one of us fucks you-”

“You,” Nora blurted out, her face red with exertion and sudden embarrassment. She wouldn’t voice it aloud but she wanted to know if that texture…applied…everywhere. And Hancock seemed to know it by the way he chuckled. 

“Whatever the birthday girl likes. So, what else do you want?”

Nora couldn’t say it, but she let her hand drop, gripping Mac’s cock through his pants. The sniper let out a moan and she felt his nails dig into her leg. With one hand she undid his belt and pulled down the zip, before reaching into his boxers and wrapping her hand around the hot, velvet length of him. Mac bit down on her neck and she felt him shake, his other hand gripping her shoulder. 

“Hey, hey, what about me?” Deacon asked with a sad sigh. Once more, Nora wordlessly undid his belt, pulling his jeans down to his thighs and freeing him from the confines of his underwear. She let her thumb play over the skin for a moment before she gently guided him forward. Deacon got the hint. His hands slid into her hair and the tip of his cock pushed against her lips. Nora parted them to allow him entry. The spy let out a soft, shaky moan as he filled her mouth.

“Fuck, doll,” Hancock said, sucking in a breath, “you’re a damn  _vision_  like that.”

By the way Deacon’s fingers were gripping her hair, she knew he wouldn’t last long once she got started, and her left hand slid up to cup him. 

“Char _mer_ ,” he complained with a gasp. 

“She givin’ you trouble?” Hancock teased. His fingers pulled out of her and Nora whined against Deacon. The fingers stroked at her lips for a few moments and he let her squirm. 

“She  _is_  trouble,” Deacon groaned. Nora’s tongue swiped against him and his voice wavered. 

“Damn straight,” Hancock agreed. Nora heard the sound of his belt coming off and the rustle of cloth. A moment later, his hands gripped her thighs and she couldn’t help moaning. 

“I-I’m never gonna be able to  _l_ ook at you holdin’ a-a rifle ever again, boss,” Mac said weakly. 

The ghoul laughed, and then something hot, covered with that familiar sensation, rubbed along her clit. Nora’s hips would have bucked furiously if Hancock hadn’t suddenly pinned her down to the table with a chiding noise. Nora waited for him to say something but he stroked himself against that nub for a few more seconds until she was shaking. 

“Happy Birthday, doll,” Hancock rasped, and then his cock filled her with one thrust. 

Nora nearly fell off the table as her body arched into the stimulation. There were no words for the  _feeling_  of him burying himself to to hilt in her and the drag of that  _texture_ made her toes curl already. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to last long like this. 

“Ready, baby?” Hancock cooed. Nora swallowed, and then nodded, making a noise of affirmation that caused Deacon to pant softly. “Good.”

Hancock drew back and snapped forward with a grunt, his hips hitting Nora’s. A yelp filled her mouth as Deacon groaned, rocking himself into her lips. Nora sucked on him, and just as Mac let out a little ‘h-hey,’ her closed fist jerked at his cock and his complaints fell away, replaced by sharp little breaths. 

Nora tried briefly to assess who would cum first, and as the ghoul started to fuck her with slow, rough thrusts, she realised with a shiver of expectation that oh, it probably  _wasn’t_  going to be John. If she had to put caps on it, Deacon would go first, then Mac, then John. 

Which raised the question now, as that  _beautiful_ cock rubbed her walls and pulled a litany of moans from her, of how long he  _would_  take to cum, and just how many times she would have gotten there first. 

Deacon’s hand grasped her breast and his thumb began to play with her nipple as he shivered, working himself in and out of her mouth. Nora sucked on him gently but it was  _so_ hard to concentrate on him with the way Hancock was fucking her, spreading her wide open to let his hips drive deeper. Her fingers drew over the spy’s perineum, stroking his sack, and Deacon’s grip on her hair tightened. 

“F-fuck,” his thumb skimmed her cheek, “l-looks like…your… _ahh_ …oral skills aren’t…just… _fuck me_ …talking.”

“You ain’t keepin’ those puns down even when she’s got you in her mouth, huh, brother?” Hancock chuckled breathlessly, his words somehow even as if to contrast with Deacon’s shaky jokes. 

“I-it’s what I’m here for,” Deacon laughed, the sound breaking off into a moan when her tongue found the slit at his tip and teased it. 

Nora’s wrist moved steadily up and down her sniper’s cock, her grip tight. MacCready was already panting, one hand digging nails into her shoulder. The other was helping Hancock hold her open and as her tongue stroked up the underside of Deacon’s length, she let her thumb rub the ridge below the tip. Mac whimpered in a way that sounded like pain, but when he thrust into her strokes, she was reassured, listening as best she could to the noises he was making. 

Not that it was easy to concentrate, not with the way Hancock was fucking her. Or the way he was  _groaning_. That rasp in his voice was feeding her pleasure, his laboured breaths escaping him each time his hips slapped against hers. She wondered what he looked like right now and her mind conjured her a picture of a dishevelled Hancock, his hands wrapped around her thighs, eyes hooded and glassy with pleasure. 

A sharp wave of ecstasy washed over her and Hancock hissed, gripping tighter. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, what’s your mind conjurin’ up?” he breathed. “Just squeezed me like a vice, babe. No complaints.”

“P-probably f-fantasising…ahh…about,  _ah, ahh_ , Charmer,” Deacon groaned, his words breaking off into loud moans as Nora started to buck her head and take his cock deeper. She relaxed her throat, felt him  _shake_  as her lips wrapped around the base of his shaft. “Uhhh…”

She bobbed a little faster, sucking at him each time she could, and in moments, the spy was shivering from head to toe, his fingers tensing in her hair. He pinched her nipple briefly before his hips canted sharply forward, thankfully careful about matching her mouth. 

“Fu-u-u-ck,” John called with a whistle, rolling his hips a little. His cock stroked against a sweet spot and Nora’s eyes flew open behind the flag, a sharp cry buzzing against Deacon’s cock. “Got skill, babe.”

She could already feel that Deacon was getting closer and redoubled her efforts, her finger pressing and stroking against his perineum until the spy was squirming, fighting the urge to fuck her mouth as his cock started to twitch. 

“Clean up if you make a mess,” she heard Hancock say, his voice teasing. 

“Y-you’d be…just…as… _ahhh!”_

Whatever Deacon’s retort had been, it was lost as his cock jerked and warm liquid filled Nora’s mouth, working along his shaft as his hips kept furiously pumping until the spy couldn’t take any more. She swallowed it all down as he pulled out, and her tongue lapped at the tip just as he retreated.

“Y-you…uh, fuck,” she heard him groan, and then the couch springs creaked as he took a heavy seat. Nora smiled, wiped her lips clean, and turned her head to follow MacCready’s noises. 

“Pants,” Hancock called. The sound of Deacon’s belt jingled as her grip on the sniper’s cock tightened and he let out a noise of abrupt realisation. 

“Sh- fu- n-not…be…uhh,” he groaned, and grasped her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples. Nora arched with a soft squeak, her hips rocking with the ghoul’s as that tension wound suddenly tighter. Hancock groaned again. 

“Good  _shit_ ,” he panted, and Nora gave MacCready as much attention as she could muster, despite the ghoul currently fucking her. Jerking her closed fist faster, she listened, softly gasping as his voice cracked. 

 _“Deacon,”_ Mac pleaded. “ _Help_ me.”

“Nuh-uh,” Deacon mumbled. Nora laughed, and reached over to slip her other hand into Mac’s boxers, her fingers already beginning to stroke his perineum.

“Je-fu-uh, huh,  _uhhh_ ,” Mac moaned, his wiry hips thrusting helplessly into her touch. 

“Mac,” Deacon called, “you got  _hands_.”

Nora gasped, and then her body tensed in shock as rough fingers landed on her clit and began to rub in tight circles, to the sound of MacCready laughing in victory.

“ _Nice_ ,” Hancock laughed, as Nora bucked against the touches, gasping sharply as his fingers suddenly brought her hurtling towards the edge. 

“Hmmph,” she heard Deacon mutter, and then there was movement. In one moment, her left hand was pinned to the table, and Deacon’s mouth was around her nipple, sucking on it. 

Nora screamed, and fell. Heat rushed through her body, the tension unravelling in a wave of pleasure that made her thighs twitch and pull, trying to free themselves from Hancock’s grip as the ghoul fucked her relentlessly, his hips stroking upwards to catch that spot every time. Nora felt beads of sweat drip off her body as she strained upwards off the cushions, finding herself effortlessly dragged against Hancock’s body as the heat subsided, the pleasure replaced once more with that oversensitive sensation. She instinctively yanked away just as Mac started to twitch in her hand, and, biting her lip, she tried to calm herself.

It didn’t help much. Her skin was as twitchy as the sniper’s, and as she listened to his voice become a crescendo, her hand trying to push the sniper’s lips from her nipple, her thighs were shaking in Hancock’s hands. But she gave MacCready her focus once more, her fingers gripping the velvet length tightly. 

His hand left her clit, closed tight around hers and held it still as he fucked it, and Nora felt the hot slick covering her fingers as he came with a cry, juddering against her grip with little, reflexive squirms until it was too much for him and he pulled her fingers from his underwear. As she opened her mouth to breathlessly point out the mess, a cloth wiped away the seed, and Nora was left with the sinking realisation that Hancock still hadn’t cum. 

“John,” she whined, reaching for him. He was suddenly in her face, his lips brushing hers. He still tasted like her as they kissed, and his ruined pelvis rubbed at her clit and forced her into an arch. Deacon, forced to withdraw, slipped to one side and held open her thigh. 

“Ghoul cock, sweetheart,” he panted. She wondered how close he was. “Drives you wild, huh?”

“Uhuh,” Nora whimpered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. His torso was bare, and now that mottled skin was rubbing her nipples. Her thighs strained against their restraints as she tried to clamp them tight around John’s hips. 

“You gonna cum again, baby?” he cooed, kissing her chin. “Make you feel  _real_  good.”

Fuck, she  _was_  going to cum again, wasn’t she? Between the way his body was playing hers and the groans he was letting loose, she could already feel another climax on its way. 

“Nice view,” Deacon whistled, his voice still a little uneven. She turned her head to follow the sound and then she was crying out as Hancock’s teeth found her neck. 

“Nice,” Mac groaned. Nora wondered what they looked like right now, if Mac’s face was still flushed from his orgasm or if Deacon’s smirk was in place. The idea of them watching her…

“Mmm,” Hancock groaned, and a moment later his thrusts were changing. She could feel them getting slowly more erratic. “Feels good, baby.”

She kissed him again, her face on fire from the touches and the pet names. She could already feel that pressure growing, the need to cum getting more and more pressing even as the Mayor railed her. 

“Almost there?” he groaned. She knew he was asking her but it felt like a warning too. Her thighs wrenched from the combined grip of the two men and wrapped snugly around John’s hips.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Hancock nibbled her lip, and both hands slid up her back, pressing her against him in an arch. 

“Good.”

The ghoul drove hard and deep with a sudden renewed vigour and Nora felt her lips part widely, the breath escaping her for a few seconds as another wave of heat rushed through her. It only took seconds of his relentless pumping before she was shaking and wriggling in his grip, clenching tight around his cock and milking him as she came. Hancock growled deep in her ear.

“Gonna cum in you?” he asked. Nora nodded frantically. “Fuck  _yeah_.”

Nora sank back into the man’s grasp limply as her orgasm sapped her strength. His mouth was against her ear, the noises of pleasure sending little flecks of heat down her spine, and she felt him twitch gently, then harder, his thrusts now furious and uneven. 

“Fuck,  _sweetheart!”_ he yelled, pulling her flush against him as his cock emptied into her. It felt hotter than a man’s, and it made her so wet that Hancock simply slipped out of her, his softening length pressing against his thigh. The ghoul shook on top of her, his face buried in her neck, and Nora slumped into the cushions, trying furiously to regain her breath. 

John rolled off her, and Nora pulled the flag from her eyes, casting her gaze around the room. At some point, Mac had taken a seat on the couch, as had Deacon. She’d probably missed it during her orgasm.

The Mayor of Goodneighbour was still lying on the floor, his chest rising and falling heavily, eyes lidded. But he caught her look and grinned at her. Nora found herself drawn to the sight of his cock. 

“So.” 

Nora looked up at Deacon, who was sitting against the couch with his hands splayed limply over his thighs.

“How was your present?”

“Pretty good,” she panted, leaning back. Her eyes closed. A wave of fatigue rolled over her. 

“Pretty good?” John repeated. “Huh. Guess we’ll have to work on that. Make it weekly.”

Nora’s mind played her a film reel of positions the four of them could end up in, and breathed out heavily. 


End file.
